Darkest Hours
by Mi Ling Chi
Summary: In the darkest hours of the morning, the battle commences. A battle of strength, of will, and a battle of the heart. Amidst blood stained battle fields and dying embers the fallen warriors are only destined to be forgotten. A tale of love, of sacrifice, and the darkness within us all. Today they stand proud, tomorrow they are ashes. SR


**AN: **When I first started this story, it was a long time ago, but I never posted the first chapter. And I'm glad I didn't, the difference between this version and that was is huge. This one is actually good, that one wasn't.

Please don't forget to review when you are done reading!

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Today was a joyous day, one of celebration and mirth, of smiles that spanned from ear to ear and eyes so squinted in laughter they might as well have been closed. A gathering, no, more like a festival, was being planned, the best dancers, chefs and singers were being brought in from all over Nippon. A celebration was going on in every room in the Western Shiro, and in every house across the great lands ruled by Tōga, the current Inu no Taisho.

So what was so special about today? What made this day, this surprisingly warm autumn day, so important, so special? Of course, today was the day that Tōga, and all of the West, learned of the conception of an heir. A son to carry on the mantle of the West, and take the heritage and history of thousands of yōkai into the future. That was what was so joyous about this day, what made this day one of celebration. It was the day that the child of the moon was announced.

However there was one man who was not celebrating, locked away in his study, his chin resting on his hands as he stared at the messenger of the Kami, no, glared at the messenger. He should've been out there celebrating himself, it was his child after all that they were celebrating. However, the Kami had needed to speak with him and because they were the Kami, he had to give in to their requests, no matter how unhappy they made him or others. So, with a sigh, he closed himself in his study with the messenger. The Kami were the Kami, you did not deny them in any form or shape, not even their messengers could be denied.

The messenger unfolded his fan made of feathers, fanning himself as he looked around the study. Tōga wished that the man would hurry up and say his part so that he could return to cherishing his wife Kiyomi and celebrating the conception of his heir. The messenger seemed to be in no hurry though as he stared at the paintings and sculptures.

"Such a luxurious life," mumbled the messenger as he picked up a jade dog imported from China off one of Tōga's bookshelves. Tōga didn't understand the reason behind his comment, and expressed that by arching one of his silver eyebrows. Was that all this man was here for, to comment on the luxury that he lived in, and so did his subjects live in? "Have you always lived like this?" the messenger asked, turning back to the daiyōkai who sat behind his desk, irritated.

"I have, the four yōkai kingdoms are very prosperous. Even our subjects live like this." Tōga studied the messenger, waiting patiently for the man to reveal his hand and share with him the message he was supposed to be speaking. However, the man was taking his sweet time and that was annoying Tōga greatly. As the messenger commenced with looking at the lord's luxuries some more, Tōga decided to continue. "Yōkai have lived like this for thousands of years. When I came into possession of the West, I signed peace treaties with the other three kingdoms and refused to participate in any wars, not even giving aid or counsel to warring factions. The other daiyōkai took from my example and from then on out, we have had peace."

The messenger continued to hold his silence, now admiring a vase that the Southern lord had given him upon the announcement of Tōga's marriage to Kiyomi. He wondered what type of gift the Southern lord now had in store for him since the conception of an heir was even bigger than a marriage, and the Southern lord was known for using any excuse to flaunt his wealth.

"Peace is very nice, is it not? We know not of war in the Heavens, for the Kami choose to live a peaceful life and when war rages, we choose to stay out of it. War is not good for the soul you see, it leads to nothing but corruption. You are not pure if there is blood on your hands." The messenger paused, turning to look at Tōga. "It is a shame that this peace will not last."

The messenger studied Tōga to gauge the Western lord's reactions to the bombshell he had dropped, and he had reacted just as the messenger had expected. Surprise, shock, anger, fear, and sadness filled the air in a sudden burst of the lord's yōki. The messenger bit back his smirk, knowing that it would be inappropriate. War was nothing to be joyous over, or to be humored by. War was war, bloody, brutal, and violent. News of it was just the same, and declarations could get a messenger's head chopped off. Luckily for this messenger, he was of the Kami so no one would lay a finger on his flawless image.

"What war do you speak of?" asked Tōga once he had composed himself, though his emotions battered on the inside like the fiercest of storms. War, something he'd tried to avoid, and killed for many years among yōkai and now here messenger from the Kami was talking about it like it was common knowledge. But as the messenger had said, the Kami knew not of how war damaged the mind, just the soul. They saw not how it ravaged hearts and pillaged people's worlds.

"I speak of a war many years in the future when you are gone. It is a war that your son shall fight, against a fallen Kami named Takeshi." The messenger observed the fury on the Western lord's face and decided upon what next to speak of. "You cannot avoid, nor can your son. He will fight, he must. He has no choice, and you have no choice yourself. You must raise him to be a warlord, to be the strongest of the strong, coldest of the cold, and proudest of the proud. He must be smart, clever, and logical." The messenger saw the argument on Tōga's lips and pressed on.

"If he is none of those things, then yōkai kind will cease to exist. Takeshi wishes for the extinction of yōkai, and will do anything to get it. He must fight. And you must name him Sesshōmaru, the perfect killer, so that his name shall strike fear into the hearts of his enemies. And you must prepare him for death and sacrifice. He will die, there is no way to avoid it."

The messenger waited for Tōga to process this news. It was a lot to take in all at once. Your son, one that is not even born yet, will die in war, something you've fought your entire life against so that the world you live in could live in peace. Tōga wasn't pleased with this news, and he had long list of things he wanted to say to the messenger and the Kami but the messenger was not thru yet, and did not let the daiyōkai speak his complaints.

"There is also a hime currently running from her kingdom in the North. She is with child, a daughter, though she is not married. Warriors sent by her father search after her with knives and threats for their orders are to kill her so that the child, conceived out of wedlock, is never born. You must take her in and protect her for she is the ancestor of another important player in the war."

"How can a human be important?" Tōga quickly said, interrupting the messenger who leveled the lord of the West with a glare.

"I was about to explain her importance to the war effort if I hadn't been so rudely interrupted by you. Hold your tongue until I am done or I shall leave you with an incomplete story." Tōga rolled his eyes but let the messenger continue.

"As I said, the hime whose name is Azuki is the ancestor of a very important person in this war. One day, her descendent Rin shall also play a key role in the war. She shall be friend, lover, wife, and enemy all at once. Azuki and her line must live, and Rin must certainly be born and she must live otherwise you may kiss the West, and all of yōkai, goodbye and wish them a good journey to the afterlife now."

A few longs moments of silence stretched between messenger and lord before the lord took it to mean that he could now speak his mind and his questions. Sighing, he collected his thoughts and tried to order them from most important to least. However, the first question that fell from his lips didn't seem that important until the messenger answered it.

"How shall Rin be a friend and an enemy at once?" echoed the messenger, staring at the jade dog statue he'd picked up earlier. "She shall become Sesshōmaru's wife one day, and she shall give birth to a full blooded heir to the West who shall carry on in his father's name. Her other job though, is one I cannot share in fear of you doing something rash against Azuki. Just know that should you do something rash, the Kami punish not just you and your lineage, but the entirety of the yōkai race."

Tōga growled, sneering at the messenger who stared at the lord in boredom. But Tōga did not press for more on the subject, knowing in his mind that he would help Azuki even if it meant that her lineage would give birth to a woman who would help in the downfall of his son. He was angry though, and decided that he wished not to ask any more questions for fear of ruining this day further. He wouldn't share the news with Kiyomi for a few days, and he would never share it with his subjects and allies.

"Well, if that is all I shall be taking me leave," said the messenger, bowing to the lord. Tōga nodded his head, bidding the messenger a silent, angry farewell. Tōga was left to stew in his own thoughts, not leaving his study for a good few hours knowing that a scowl on his face as people danced, laughed, and celebrated around him would not be taken well.

His son, the one people were celebrating conception of now, was destined to fight in a war to save yōkai-kind, and he was destined to be a martyr to save them. He was destined to fight a fallen Kami, one with a hatred for yōkai, and to fall in love with a human named Rin that, at least from what Tōga was assuming, might literally turn on him and stab him in the back.

Dear Kami, what on earth had he done to deserve this punishment?

A few days had passed, and celebrations still littered every inch of the West. However, rumors had spread of the sudden unhappiness of the Inu no Taisho and people were beginning to wonder and rumor themselves. What if this child was not his, but a child of a lover that the lady of the West had had? The shame would certainly put a scowl on their benevolent lord's face. No one though, in all of the rumors and musings, had come close to the truth of the matter. In fact, no one had even mentioned the possibility of war weighing heavily on the mind of Tōga, especially one that wouldn't happen for centuries more, perhaps even more, that he wouldn't be around to see. Not even his wife had guessed such an unhappy reason as to why the scowl had crawled onto her husband's face.

He had guards combing the countryside for this Azuki woman, and guards sent to kill the warriors after her. Luckily for him, no one knew of this little fact, and if they did they assumed she was to be a nursemaid for the son they were all in celebration of. No had guessed that one of her descendants, one named Rin, was to be the wife of his son.

No one knew anything of what had happened in his study days ago, of the meeting that had transpired and the words that had been shared. Tōga had been very tight lipped about it, not even sharing with his wife about it. He knew he needed to confide in her soon, very soon in fact for he had reason to believe that Azuki would be found any day now. However, every time he went to see her to tell her, her blinding smile always made him hesitate and before he knew it, she was combing and braiding his hair as she told him humorous stories in attempt to cheer him up.

Now standing on the edge of a cliff, staring down at the roaring grey ocean crashing against the cliff side, he mourned events that had happened, and had to fight the treacherous thoughts that invaded his mind. No one as far as he knew, knew he was there and for that he was very glad. He needed time to think, something he hadn't had much of amongst the loud cheering of his people. He needed to think about how he would break the news of their child's future to his wife, and how he would raise a child to become an impervious warlord. These were just things he didn't know, but things he needed to know yet feared to know.

So amongst the roar of the sea, the roar that echoed the own anger he harbored towards the Kami for their betrayal of him, Tōga thought long and hard about the road ahead of him. Of how to break to the most devastating news he would ever have to give to his wife, his pregnant wife, were his first thoughts. Those thoughts took him a good two hours before he had to move on to the ones he really didn't want to think of.

How was he to raise a child to be an emotionless killer, an impervious tactician of war that could never be read by his enemy but could read his enemies in a heartbeat. Tōga himself was not a warlord, he'd never raised hell in his life or fought in a battle. When he was young and being taught the art of war, he'd been terrible at it. It went straight over his head, and that was when he'd known he was going to become a peacemaker instead. Now he needed that knowledge that had escaped him so many years ago, and that he had long since forgotten.

His ideas were ones he hated but knew were the only ones that would work. He, and everyone else around his son, would need to be cold to him, even cruel. They could not be kind, worthy of trust. They needed to raise him to be tough and emotionless. Trust was not something he could afford, because every time he would, he needed to teach his son that he would be humiliated and hurt. Though, he also needed to give him one or two people to trust so he would let Azuki's line be friendly with him, and his mother had to be trust-worthy but not as friendly. Tough on him, but still motherly.

Every day Sesshōmaru would have to be in the dojo practicing, and when he wasn't he would need to be with tutors learning how to be the perfect warlord. That was the sad way his son would have to be raised, with a firm and cold hand, but that was really out of his hands. If he coddled Sesshōmaru, then yōkai were already dead. If he didn't, then they had a fighting chance of fulfilling the prophecy the messenger had given him, even if it broke his heart.

As he sat on the cliff side, pondering over a bleak future, the rain had begun to fall like a torrent of tears. Were the Kami crying for his unborn pup? Tōga found the thought amusing but satisfying so he pretended it was true. It was better than to realize the obvious truth that the Kami simply didn't care about his son, that he was but a pawn in a game they played, sacrificed with no thought to any solution that didn't resolve in a way that the bad guy died and the good guy lived. A martyr the Kami had decided, and there would be no way around that.

"Tōga?" a sweet, melodic voice called from behind him. He turned his head to see Kiyomi staring at him with a worried expression, her hand cradling her stomach that protruded slightly. Yōkai pregnancies were quicker than human ones, and the expected due date of his son was in late January to mid-February.

She approached him as he turned his gaze back to the horizon and the ocean, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as she knelt in the mud behind him. He leaned back into her warm embrace, fighting back tears he'd wanted to shed since the messenger had first given him the bad news. He couldn't, not yet. First Kiyomi needed to know, and this was the time, he could feel it. So with a sigh, he opened his mouth, ready yet not ready to share with his wife the news that had eaten at him for days now.

She took it hard. Real hard. No, saying that Kiyomi took it hard was the biggest understatement ever uttered but Tōga didn't have any other description, any other words, for how she took the news, that her son, the one in her womb at that moment, would be born with the fate of fighting in a war that determined the fate of yōkai and ending his life as a martyr. By the time he was thru with his explanation, done with stating the facts that made his stomach do acrobatics, she was a sobbing mess of hormones and grief and for the first time since he'd learned of the prophecy, he too was shedding tears. Though, his tears dried long before Kiyomi's did, and it had even stopped raining and the sun had started shining before she wiped the last tear away with the sleeve of her kimono.

"Can't you stop this," she hoarsely begged him, asking the air and the Kami. It was obvious that he shared the same sentiment, that he too wished to stop this madness, but the answer was also clear to both parties on the cliff that day. No, he could not stop this. That was something only the Kami could do, and perhaps even they couldn't.

"Can you lie to me and say there is a way?" she asked him after silence had spanned between them, echoed in their minds. He could see in her eyes and the way her lip quivered that she was moments away from another breakdown. This was not good for anyone, not him, not Kiyomi, and certainly not the child she carried. He hated the thought of lying to anyone, let alone his wife, but in that moment she needed to hear the lie she had requested to hear. So he gave in.

"I'll do my best. As they say, if there is a will, there is a way," he said with a small, mournful smile. She didn't smile back at him, exhausted and grief-stricken. She collapsed into his arms under the weight of the knowledge he'd placed onto her, weakly moaning as she took the blackness of unconsciousness over the warmth of the sun shining in the sky.

In that moment, he wished he was his wife so that he could sleep and ignore the painful reality that the messenger's words had thrust him into.

The time of his son's birth was drawing near. Kiyomi was beginning to smell of the same smell that every dog yōkai smelled of when they were about a week away from labor. This should've been a joyous time for him, as had the time when he'd first found out of Sesshōmaru's conception, but it wasn't. And by this time, most people that Tōga trusted knew why. His three highest ranking generals now knew of the prophecy, and his four most trusted advisors also knew. Everyone knew to treat the heir coldly, and to avoid him at all possible times.

Then the was the matter of Azuki that also weighted heavily on the lord. She had yet to be found, and even more soldiers were out there looking for her. The warriors sent by her father were long dead and buried yet the human woman had yet to turn up. Perhaps she was dead, but then certainly the Kami would have informed him, correct? Whatever the case was, every day that the ancestor of Rin was still missing, he grew more and more worried for the future of the West, of the war, and of yōkai. Everything he knew, loved, cherished, and worked for was in the hands of a woman who hadn't even been born yet, and he had yet to see to her lineage being continued.

This was most certainly a hard and trying period in Tōga's life, and he knew that this short period would be nothing in comparison to his yet to be born son's life. He knew Sesshōmaru would live a living a hell for the entirety of his existence on the mortal plane, and as the messenger had hinted, even in the afterlife, after his good deeds, he might have hell to go through too.

Kiyomi and Tōga had begun to cope with that future and all that it held for their son. He had also begun coping with the knowledge he wouldn't even live to see this war. Every day, even just for a moment, the thought of his death crossed his mind. How was he going to die? When was it going to happen? Would it be painful? Would it be pointless? Would it be for something great? Who would have the pleasure of finishing him off? Or would it be illness the claimed him from this world? Death, it loomed over him, lurking everywhere he went. He knew that everyone died eventually, but knowing that he was not too long for this world ate him more than knowing that he had anywhere from a minute from now to a million years from now. This was more torture than that ever had been.

It was surprising that he hadn't cracked under all the stress that had plagued him, draped around his shoulders. If more people had known, they probably would've expected him to crack, and when he hadn't, would start up a ruckus that Tōga wasn't exactly sane. Not that it mattered, many people had already done that when he scowled whenever his heir was brought up but adamantly denied any affair that Kiyomi possibly had.

Currently he was scowling again as he sat behind his desk, a trade treaty he should've been signing still laying where it had been when his most trusted advisor left it on his desk. No, his current attention was focused on the little jade dog that had fascinated the messenger from the Kami when he'd visited. But he wasn't really thinking about the statue, but of the words said by the man who'd found it fascinating in the angry air of his study that day.

Perhaps he was moping, obsessing over this one thing. But he couldn't help himself. Why his son? Why was it his Sesshōmaru that the Kami targeted, setting his destiny for that of war and destruction, something his father had fought against his entire life? It was unfair, Tōga was certain of that. Sesshōmaru wasn't even born and yet Tōga had already had to decide to raise him as a stranger, an enemy. He had to raise him to become a warlord of legend, like one that hadn't existed in eons in Nippon. It just wasn't fair, no matter what one said about it.

Sighing, Tōga's eyes flicked to the trade treaty and found the no matter how his mind willed his arms to move and bring it closer, the appendage would not work. Rolling his eyes, he hollered for his advisor Manabu.

Manabu was a man that had taken Tōga years to trust, and even today Tōga was hesitant in the presence of the snake yōkai. Still, Manabu had once been a lord of his own, a feared warlord in a distant land. Though it was beyond Tōga as to why the snake yōkai had changed scenery, moved to Japan, and become an advisor, he was the one Tōga found had the best advice on the subject of his yet to be born son and Tōga found himself in need of that advice again.

"Yes milord?" Manabu asked, kneeling in front of his lord. Tōga sighed, and once more delved into the subject he spoken to the snake yōkai about a million times before. And with a smirk and a roll of his eyes, the snake yōkai listened and pitched in his advice here and there. And by the end of the meeting, Tōga felt better and went to work on his lordly duties with a clearer mind.

Pacing in the hallway outside the chambers, Tōga at first glance might look like any other man on this day. But he wasn't. The worry and fear that ate him wasn't the same that ate at other men on this day, and it never could be, and it wasn't a fear he should've been facing.

Today was the day, the day of Sesshōmaru's birth. Tōga might as well have been human if one judged such things upon how sharpened a person's claws were. No matter how many times his advisors, generals, servants, and about anyone he ran into tried to calm him down and convince him that nothing was wrong, it never worked. And for a select few, they knew why. Today was the day an heir that had long been celebrated was born, but today was also the day that the ticking on the clock towards the beginning of the war began to get louder and louder. Today was the only day that the lord Tōga would ever hold Sesshōmaru in his arms, the only time people would be allowed to show kindness to the future martyr.

This was not a day of celebration, no matter how much one wanted to believe that it was. Today was the day of the birth of war in lands that had been peaceful for years. And no matter how one tried to give Tōga a different outlook on today, none could because it was impossible. For months Tōga had been dreading, _fearing,_ this day and now it was upon him and there was nothing anyone could do to stop the daiyōkai from wallowing in the fear that his mind conjured for him.

The fact that the hime still hadn't been found also nagged at him. How long did it take to find one human hime? Had she already settled down in a village? Was she in the East or the South? No, that had to be impossible. He had men searching all of the four kingdoms and still they had yet to find the girl. Then again, just going off a name probably didn't help them but still! They should be able to find one stinking girl!

"Milord?" Manabu asked, coming to stand near him. Tōga stopped in his pacing, turning to stare at the advisor he once would've never trusted with anything as great as the knowledge of the future but now trusted with his life. He cocked his head to the side, wondering what on earth the snake yōkai might have to say to him. Had they found Azuki?

"This is not about the human," the snake yōkai said, dashing his hopes immediately. "But I have been researching the fallen Kami the messenger spoke of." Instantly that peaked Tōga's interest, making him stare with wide eyes at the advisor.

"While I could not find anything on a Takeshi among the Kami, I believe he might be Bishamonten. The fact that shrines and temples dedicated to him have been said to become haunted places of misery and misfortune, something that only happens to the shrines of fallen Kami, supports my claim. On the same train of thought, the fact that prayers towards him have been unanswered or the opposite happens and criminals have been escaping unpunished, or warriors have been unluckier and unluckier, supports my idea as well. The messenger also said that Takeshi masquerades as a Buddhist monk would also support him being Bishamonten as to humans, he is among the 'Buddhist' Kami."

Tōga nodded, thinking over Manabu's words. They made sense, perfectly in fact, and that might even explain why his troops were having such bad luck finding Azuki but he didn't get it. Why would Bishamonten, or Takeshi if the snake yōkai was right, be interest in eradicating yōkai? And what was his reason to even become a fallen Kami? It stumped the lord of the West, and the lord did not like being stumped. Sighing he shook his head and dismissed his advisor.

The shoji slid open slightly as a one of maids who'd been in the birthing chamber stepped out. He turned to face her, his hands neatly clasped behind his back as waited for whatever the woman had to say. Would she say that the child was stillborn? Would she say that he was born perfectly healthy? Or would she inform him that the child was horrifically mutated and wouldn't survive a fortnight? Perhaps whatever the maid had to say was about Kiyomi. Perhaps his wife had died during labor. Tōga shook his head, trying to free himself of the depressing thoughts as the maid looked at her lord like he had gone mad.

When Tōga had calmed and looked at her expectantly, she gave him a dazzling smile as she informed him that the child was perfectly healthy, and extremely powerful, and that Kiyomi was tired and a little shaky but she would be better in a couple days. Tōga let out a sigh of relief as he dismissed the maid and entered the birthing chamber.

Inside he spotted Kiyomi lying on her back, her eyes closed but not because she was asleep. The child, Sesshōmaru, was in the hands of one of the maids as she cleaned him off. Tōga chose to rush to his wife, who opened her eyes to look at him and smile.

He placed a hand on her cheek, caressing the pale, clammy skin as he stared into her beautiful golden eyes. She did look tired, he noted as he brushed her damp hair away from her forehead and placed a kiss on her striking indigo crescent moon that resided proudly on her brow. For once he felt joy when he saw his wife, not dread over what she carried inside her.

The maids approached, offering to their lord his son and heir. Tōga took the child from their hands with shaking fingers before dismissing them.

The child reminded him of his mother more. The same crescent moon that he had just kissed moments ago, and the same color maroon stripes on his cheeks, though his were two straight ones instead of like the ones his mother had. While both parents had white hair, the child's hair had the same silver strands that Kiyomi's did, and he had the same pale, porcelain like skin that Kiyomi did. Tōga saw nothing of himself in the child, and that saddened him slightly. His son was his mother's son, he always would be because his father had to raise him to be a cold, cruel lord that did not know the love of a father.

With a mournful sigh, he handed Sesshōmaru to his mother and looked away.

Why? Why Sesshōmaru? Why a child?


End file.
